The Lost Memory
by Jennasidee
Summary: 1/1  A small addition to book 7. Snape's conversation with Dumbledore shows Harry the true reasoning for his adamant protection.  Snape/Harry mentorship.


_The edges around Harry's vision were fading. Fading, fading into wisps of smoke, fading into oblivion as a transition into the next memory. A blue-ish tinge blurred his sight for a few seconds; the atmosphere was whisked away, refusing to come into focus. _

_But alas, slowly but surely, the image in front of his emerald eyes became progressively more sharp. Harry became less aware of himself and more aware of his sights; his eyes, his ears. _

_He watched. _

It was a dark, ominous evening; the slightest blue shed traces of light from the cloudy sky. Snape's classroom looked as though it would smell horribly musty had he really been standing there, and for a moment Harry was thankful it was only a memory. A rather large window at the end of the room with black paneling revealed a cloudy night sky- it seemed strange that someone had drawn the curtains in such a depressed looking room. Another silvery light was coming from outside. Harry couldn't tell exactly what it was in his present position and guessed, hastily, that it was the moon.

Snape was standing, with his back turned to Harry, staring out the window. His billowing black cape would have made him hard to spot had he not been right in front of the only source of light. He didn't speak, nor move; he was completely silent and still. He seemed to be studying whatever was outside.

Harry moved to the side and saw at last a silvery Patronus in the form of a doe floating lazily in circles outside of the window. Snape had appeared to be looking at it, but his mind was on other matters. His emotionless irises stared past the doe, seeking elsewhere.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Harry turned around and peered into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Snape, who hadn't even blinked, addressed him after an ominous silence.

"Draco Malfoy has been chosen to perform the task," he said plaintively in a low voice.

"Ah yes, as I have heard," Dumbledore said almost cheerily. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he gazed at Snape's backside through his half-moon spectacles.

Snape was silent, but his expression had fallen a bit. Dumbledore began to walk toward him.

"And what are you planning to do about that?" He asked gently.

"By all means, I cannot change the Dark Lord's mind. If he has selected Draco, then he has selected Draco."

"You seem downtrodden."

Snape said nothing once more; his lips merely curled. Harry could have sworn he appeared almost sympathetic, but his former professor shook it off before he could even observe further.

"He will have to do it," Snape replied simply, looking down at the floor as the words trailed off.

"Ah, you regret your words," Dumbledore said confidently, albeit softly.

This time, Snape remained silent. Dumbledore gave him time to answer; he chose to leave it alone, and so he continued.

"Severus, I know that deep down inside, you care. You will not allow this to happen. I know that you do not want an innocent young boy to become corrupted, broken… an assassin like all of the rest."

"He is not an innocent boy, Albus. But he will be too afraid to do it. He is far too similar to Lucius. Somebody else will take his place."

"It will be you," Dumbledore said in a commanding tone. "We have reached a conclusion years ago. Or have you forgotten?"

Snape looked away from his Patronus once again. It had stopped bounding so cheerily and instead adjourned to hovering in front of his crooked nose, staring at him through the glass. It looked beautiful in the moonlight; Harry was almost tempted to reach out and touch it. He then remembered that he was not really there.

"It is the perfect time, Severus," Dumbledore continued. "Your regulations were clear when we agreed. I will not negotiate; you will withhold your part of this."

"What about Potter?" Snape asked, although his face seemed to suggest he was trying to avoid thinking about what was just said. Harry noticed that the way he said his last name was accompanied with the same amount of poisonous tone that it always was. "When will you tell him that he must die as well?"

"I am not. I will be long gone by the time that day is necessary. It is you, Severus, who must tell him."

At this, Snape turned around. The doe remained hovering outside of the window, its eerie yet brilliant light reflecting onto the crook of his neck and around his black hair. Snape looked Dumbledore in the eye, but did not speak.

"You will tell him, or, if you cannot face him in person, give him the memory. That is the only memory that must reach him. Give him the memory somehow. Show him what must be done."

Snape scoffed slightly. "Surely you don't believe that Potter will lay his life down without question?"

"I do believe he will if he knows it is the only way to defeat Lord Voldemort. Harry is not unlike yourself, Severus. He will die for others if need be."

Snape, who had composed himself very well, strode slowly to the door at this statement. He stopped in front of it; contemplated leaving. But as Dumbledore watched, Snape must have sensed he had something more to say, because he stood there instead of disappearing around the corridor.

Looking as curious as ever, he broke the renewed silence.

"Will you help Draco Malfoy?"

"What other choice… do I have?" Snape asked slowly, without looking at him.

"Very good, Severus. I have nothing else left to teach you. In fact, you have taught me _many_ things throughout the course of this journey." Creases appeared on his old, somewhat unhealthy-looking face as he smiled. "You have come a long way."

"Oddly I am not as thrilled as you," Snape said in a slightly misdirected tone; it was not sarcastic, though it sounded somewhat similar to the voice he used for insulting his students.

Dumbledore, who seemed slightly taken aback, stopped smiling. "We are so close to defeating Voldemort," he said calmly. "What ails you?"

Snape turned to Dumbledore. For the first time that night, Harry saw true sadness on his features; sadness reflected only further by the dim light the Patronus provided. He looked straight at him; blue met black, and then spoke.

"Forgive me, Headmaster, but I cannot seem to get excited for annihilating the last person on this Earth that has any faith... in me at all."

Dumbledore's smile was so sad that Harry thought he might give in for a moment- but no, he was touched, nothing more.

"Ah. You think you will be alone. You do not want to kill your only friend."

Snape's expression did not change, but his eyes became more fierce. Or perhaps it was only Harry's imagination.

"But you will not be alone. Comradeship, partnership. . . it extends beyond death. You will still have me. You will still have _Harry_."

Snape shook his head, deflecting. "You render me tired, old man. Potter hates me with every ounce of his being."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry Potter has more Lily in him than you realize, Severus."

Snape, once again, composed himself. He looked at Dumbledore in an almost challenging way. And then, the man who Harry had hated his whole life, said something that would never leave his thoughts for as long as he lived.

"Has it ever crossed your brilliant mind. . . that I already may have realized that?"

And with that, Snape's eyes scanned the room hastily, seemingly fearful that someone had heard his painful statement. He picked up his wand and gave a swish of his wrist; the doe flew into the room gracefully and vanished into a tiny, silver will-o-wisp. She floated in front of Snape's face, sank into his wand, and vanished, leaving the room as dark as ever before. Snape then turned dramatically, his robes billowing behind him, and walked out of the room.

Dumbledore, however, could not hold back his single silvery tear. It was the second time he had ever seen the Headmaster cry over Snape's statements.

"I've always known you would grow to care for the boy," he said to no one in particular. And Harry, whose mind was now a flurry of confusing thoughts and impossible sentiments, began to watch as the world around him spun, went blurry, and then sank into a whole new memory.


End file.
